


Smother

by nonbinaryspock



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryspock/pseuds/nonbinaryspock
Summary: I want all that is not mineI want him but we're not right





	Smother

**Author's Note:**

> just something I had bouncing around in my head

Edward curls onto his side, wiping gingerly at his eyes with the corner of his sleeve. He winces as his wrist connects with a sizeable bruise beginning to form just above his cheekbone. Lowers his hand.

This isn’t one of his proudest moments.

Jonathan crouches in front of the couch, offering him a squishy blue ice pack. He takes it, bringing it to the side of his head. Nods slightly. _Thank you_.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything. He rarely does in situations like these. Perhaps he’ll issue an instruction, perhaps offer some vague noise of reassurance. But he won’t really speak until later.  

He sets a washcloth and a small bowl of water on the coffee table. Opens a first aid kit, setting a box of bandages beside the bowl. He dips the cloth into the water, squeezing the excess back into the bowl.

Edward moves closer to the edge of the couch, allowing Jonathan to bring the damp cloth to his face. He hisses quietly as the water makes contact with a cut stretched across the bridge of his nose. Pulls away instinctively.

“Stay still,” Jonathan murmurs, bringing his free hand to the back of Edward’s head to steady him.

“Sorry.”

He reaches for the bandages, tearing the wrapper off one and securing it over the cut. He moves on to Edward’s lip, which is swollen and split. He manages to clear away most of the blood. Wipes a dry, red trail off his chin. He gently applies some of the antibiotic to the cut. Allows his thumb to rest on Edward’s lips only a moment too long. They both pretend they don’t notice.

Jonathan’s eyes quickly move from Edward’s mouth to survey the rest of his face. He takes stock of the damage. Frowns.

Edward shifts as much as his bruises will allow, oddly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He takes the ice pack away from his face, pressing it against his ribs. He is acutely aware of how close they are. It’s not… He doesn’t mind. But the guilt is hard to ignore.

Jonathan sets the cloth down. Closes the box of bandages. He sits back on his heels, looking up at the ceiling. “Is there any point in telling you to leave him?” he asks finally, eyes still fixed overhead.

“No.”

He nods slowly, lowering his gaze.

“Tell me anyway.”

He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t move. “You should leave him.”

“Why?”

“I want you to leave him.”

“He loves me.”

“No. He doesn’t.”

Edward studies Jonathan’s face. Tries to find even the slightest hint of… something. Anything. A reason. “If I leave him, I’ll have nothing,” he says carefully.

“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

“He loves me.”

“He’s hurting you.”

“But he _loves_ me.”

“I could love you,” he says softly. It’s so…earnest. So sincere and gentle and tempting that for a moment Edward wants to believe him. He entertains the thought of it. Of a life with him. And for a moment, he convinces himself that it could work. That they could be happy.

But the moment passes.


End file.
